


The Steakhouse

by AlexLKerr



Series: A Change of Plans [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Affection, Brothers, Disability, Drama, Epilepsy, Family Drama, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hugs, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dean Winchester, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexLKerr/pseuds/AlexLKerr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester treats Sam & Dean to a nice steakhouse dinner. They chat. John, while largely still ignorant of Sam's condition, offers the support Dean's been needing to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Steakhouse

The steakhouse was huge and full of dark polished wood. Dean instantly took to it with a spring in his step as they passed through the foyer. Sam was still a little fuzzy, but he was obviously enjoying himself, looking around at the luxurious and warm surroundings in fascination. They both followed their father, who had genially asked the hostess for a booth in the back. The hostess nodded graciously and a waitress, having overheard, ushered them through.

John had wanted the back booths so Sam and Dean could look around the entire space as they followed him. It was rather grandiose, and John felt slightly uneasy at the thought that he had robbed his sons of experiencing or appreciating, 'the finer things.' Still, he held on to his ethics and principles, ruling, 'the finer things,' as immaterial to what really mattered in life. John was many things, but shallow was not one of them.

They reached their booth and John slid into his side, not bothering to move past the middle of the seat: Dean and Sam always sat together. Only this time, much to his surprise, Dean slid in at the same time as John, leaving Sam to come after Dean to settle on the side closest to the aisle.

Ever since they were kids, Dean always took the outside.  _Things change_ , John figured, and smiled at the waitress as she handed them their menus. She smiled back and said she'd be back in a few minutes to take their order. The three of them said their thank you's and as she walked away, Dean crooked his head to the side, trying to check her out from the interior of his seat. Sam noticed and flinched, looking over to Dean, who was now lifting himself up a little bit to get the last glimpse.

"Dean!" Sam whined in laughter, and Dean flopped back onto his seat and turned to his kid brother.

"What?" He asked innocently. John dismissed the behavior and fixed them with a serious gaze.

"Okay. Exits?"

"The kitchens are right behind us," Dean offered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

"Nice, smart ass. Any idea about the other ones?" John smiled. Sam coughed and laid his arms on the table.

"Two exits – one on the south… Southwest-ish side, the other on the… East," Sam gauged, trying to feel out the cardinal directions as he spoke.

"Wow, good job, Sammy," Dean remarked, looking at his brother. Sam gave Dean a self-satisfied smile.

"Yup you got it, Sam," John agreed.

"Thank you," Sam replied back to both of them, feeling quite good.

"Elbows off the table, though," John murmured, nodding to Sam as he pulled his napkin out and flipped it open to place on his lap. The boys imitated their father, not entirely aware of the whole, 'manners,' protocol, but still willing to give it a shot in the midst of their excitement. John tried to hold back a smile, inwardly adoring his boys for behaving so respectfully, and picked up the menu. Again, his boys mimicked him.

The three of them started in on studying the menu, then, and Dean kept moving over and whispering things to Sam.

"Ah, stop it,  _Dean!_ " Sam finally said loudly, and Dean sat back, chuckling, with his hands up in defense.

"Dean," John warned.

"Sorry sorry," Dean waved his hand, and stopped bothering Sam. John let it go; he suspected Dean was just doing what he always did: recommended plates to Sam that he thought Sam would like. Only problem was that they were now at a place where Sam would probably like  _everything_  on this menu, so instead of being helpful, Dean had turned into a pestering, annoying sibling.

"Okay, I know what I'm going to get," John announced, and set the menu down. Dean looked up, surprised.

"You're fast," he commented. John shrugged.

"I just know what I like."

Dean nodded without judgment and turned to Sam.

"Sammy what about you?"

"Um…" Sam hummed, "Yeah?"

"You sound uncertain," Dean deadpanned sarcastically, making John laugh. Sam chuckled a second.

"Yeah, no, I know what I want."

"What is it?" Dean asked, friendly. Sam licked his lips and pointed to something on the menu and Dean nodded, reading the description, and gave Sam a smile.

"Yeah that looks really good," he agreed, and Sam nodded his head happily, setting the menu down.

"You?" John asked. Dean sighed and set his menu down.

"Yep. Good."

"Okay good," John said, looking like he was going to say more, but stopping there. His boys looked at him expectantly, though, having caught his initial intention. John gave a laugh and sighed.

"I wanted to talk to you guys," John started, "About something really important," he said meaningfully.

Dean sat up in his chair, his eyes glaring a level of intensity that John hadn't seen before now.

"Dad, what is it? Is it the demon?" He whispered, worried.

"What?" John flinched, surprised, "No, Dean," he replied in irritation. "No, it's not about that," he added.

"Oh," Dean responded, unsure how he had made the wrong move in his assumption. John sighed and dropped his hand onto the table.

"I wanted to apologize to Sam -to both of you, really-" he added, looking sincerely into Dean's eyes, "-for not having been there at the hospital."

At John's last words, Dean flinched with a grimace and looked away from John. Obviously, this was still a sore subject for Dean. John turned to look at Sam, his eyes pleading. Sam gave a slight smile, slowly warming up to John's apology, and then shrugged.

"It's okay, Dad," Sam said finally, simply. When John turned back to Dean, one son strong on the, 'forgiven,' balance sheet, he saw Dean's eyes light up with enthusiasm somewhere behind him. John turned around to see the waitress approaching and inwardly cringed at the timing of his apology. He should've launched into it after they'd given their orders.

They circled around their orders, and the waitress took off again. Dean made less of an effort to check her out now that he still had his dad's apology on his mind.

Nobody said anything after the waitress left; even the ten year old understood the tension still in the air, waiting to either strike lightning or dissipate depending on Dean's acceptance or rejection their father.

Dean sighed loudly and traced the glossy wood table with his fingers.

"Dean-?" John prompted.

"Yeah, Dad, it's forgotten," Dean replied, inwardly thinking,  _but not forgiven_.

John could swear that he could read minds sometimes, knowing exactly what Dean was saying. It was painful to hear, but he couldn't, in good conscience, ask Dean for more. Dean resettled in his seat and coughed his intention to speak.

"I'm just wondering what Sam's diagnosis means to you," Dean said gently, looking up to his father again for the first time since his apology. John tilted his head, glancing at Sam, then back to his eldest.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean with hunting and training and stuff," Dean replied, nodding at Sam. Sam looked shocked, then turned to his father with wide eyes.

"I'm not going to have to stop training with you guys, am I?" Sam asked, alarmed. John was a deer in headlights for a second, then transformed his expression to sympathy at Sam's plea.

"No," he sounded out, "No, I don't see why we would, Sam," he said slowly, turning his gaze to Dean in confusion as Dean cocked an eyebrow in skepticism. Sam was relieved and breathed easy. John, on the other hand, was staring at Dean, who'd washed his hand over his face looking like he had the weight of the world thrown onto him.

"Dean- what?" John pushed. Dean looked at Sam, an apology clear in his eyes, then turned back to his father.

"There are gonna be some things Sam shouldn't do. Even more that he won't be able to do without direct supervision from one of us," Dean said heavily.

"Dean-" Sam said weakly, devastated that Dean was being the one to recommend an unjust change to the way things had always been. Dean turned to look at him.

"Sammy, I'm sorry, but-"

"Wait, though, what are we talking about?" John interrupted reasonably, and Dean turned back to his father. Before Dean could answer him, though, John reached out to his youngest.

"Hey, Sammy, calm down, buddy," he urged from across the table. Dean turned and realized that Sam was already starting to tear up. Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's back and Sam, despite his current animosity towards his brother, leaned in. "What's going on?" John whispered solicitously to Dean, referring to Sam's unusual display of emotions. Dean rubbed Sam's side comfortingly as he spoke to John.

"He's really tired right now; the seizure in the pool today took a lot out of him, I think," Dean replied kindly. John winced in sympathy and Dean nodded knowingly. He bent lower over Sam, but John could still hear him.

"Sam, Sammy don't worry we don't have to talk about this right now, okay?"

John got in on Dean's message.

"Dean's right, Sam, nothing has to change right now, okay? Nothing's changing," John reassured. Sam let out a sob and Dean grasped him tighter.

"I… Just… I'm  _sorry_!" Sam cried, and at the sound, John got out of his seat to crouch beside Sam.

"Hey, Sammy, this isn't your fault, buddy," John whispered calmly, and reached out. Dean nudged Sam a little bit and Sam moved forward towards their father in tears.

John was many things, and a bear-hugger was one of them. He wrapped his arms around his youngest and the kid just melted into him.

"Shh, Sammy, it's okay, it's not your fault. Nothing's gonna change," John repeated over and over again soothingly.

In the back of his mind, Dean was slightly happy they'd ordered involved dinners; no waitress or serving staff would interrupt this moment, and Dean knew Sam needed it. Dean looked around, too, wondering if they were making a scene. They'd lucked out on John's predilection for sitting in the backs of restaurants: only a few other patrons were seated near them, and while they got a few glances, it  _was_  a family steakhouse. A crying ten year old probably wasn't news.

John's leg was falling asleep as his youngest was balanced on his knee. Emotionally spent, Sam was hiccupping a little bit, but for the most part just resting, his heartbeat synchronizing with John's. It was then that John looked up at Dean, and while Dean still seemed worried, he gave John a small smile. John returned the smile.

"Sorry about that," Dean mouthed, shrugging. John gave a twitched shake of his head, indicating that Dean shouldn't have been sorry.

"We'll talk later," John mouthed back, and a look of agreement and understanding passed between them.

John started rubbing Sam's back up and down.

"You okay, now, buddy?" John whispered. Sam lifted his head up off of John's shoulder and wiped his eyes. He sniffed a couple of times and nodded.

"Yeah?" John asked, prompting Sam to confirm verbally.

"Yeah," Sam said shakily, "Sorry about that," Sam said, sounding like an adult with a child's voice. John gave Sam a wide smile as Sam stood up from the bench of his father's thigh.

"It's okay, bud, it's always okay," he said calmly. He glanced at Dean for a second and then back to Sam. "You want to sit with me in the booth for right now?" He offered, not sure if he was going too far. In his peripheral vision, he could see Dean tense.

"No, it's okay," Sam mumbled, turning and climbing back into the bench seat next to Dean.

"You sure?" John asked as a last-minute check as he stood up and tried, with a lot of effort, not to wince at the pins and needles of feeling that burst and flowed through his leg. Sam sniffed a couple of times more as he got himself seated next to Dean who, feeling pretty guilty, now, put his arm around him again.

"Yeah, it's okay. Dean's the only one that knows-" and then Sam muttered something unintelligible. John, still standing to help his leg's circulation, didn't catch Sam's last words.

"Dean's the only one that knows what, Sammy?" John asked openly. Dean looked up and shrugged, yet again somewhat apologetically.

"I'm the only one that knows what to do if he has a seizure," Dean supplied John. Sam looked up timidly, uncertain.

"Ohh," John trailed off, thinking, as he slid into his seat. Both the boys watched him as he deliberated, staring at the table and nodding. Finally, he lifted his eyes to Dean and Sam, his eyebrows raised, a small smile playing on his face.

"Well, there's an easy solution to that, right?"

Dean gave a split-second squint of his eyes, then raised an eyebrow. Sam just waited on his father's words.

"I'll take a class. We could all take a class on it – or, I don't know,  _something,_ " John offered casually. Dean broke a hesitant smile and nodded.

"Yeah. There's a… Um, there's the Epilepsy Foundation. They have chapters all over the states. We could find a class there," Dean replied, his eyes twinkling with moisture that had everything to do with John's promise.

"Perfect," John slapped the table lightly, "Then there it is. That's what we'll do, okay?" John agreed, gleaming.

Sam gave a soft chuckle and nodded cheerfully. Dean, meanwhile, was just trying hard not to let any tears slide. He had a waitress to impress.

Their food arrived and the rest of the evening passed with fun conversation and banter about their everyday lives. Dean asked his father about any new hunts and John had shrugged, saying he was mostly holed up with Caleb doing research for random potential hunts. Sam talked about the book he was currently reading, Fahrenheit 451, and Dean chatted about how his father seriously had to see the movie, "Jurassic Park."

Sam, although not ever as crazy about action movies as Dean was, had to agree with his brother on Jurassic Park. It had been a lot of fun to watch.

"-Wait," John asked in the midst of Sam's agreeing praise, "How did you get in, Sam? Isn't it rated R?"

"Yeah I smuggled him in," Dean replied, chowing down on his filet without missing a beat. A moment of silence passed and Dean looked up, bewildered. "What?"

John glared at him for a second, and Dean sat back in his seat and stabbed his fork in the air at John.

"What. Ever! Sam hears and knows about things that would leave any other kid his age screaming in terror. He can  _handle_  an R-rated movie, Dad," Dean made his point playfully, causing his Dad to start smiling, especially as he noticed Sam's mounting pride at Dean's words.

"Yeah, Dad!" Sam added, and looked at Dean, who nodded in approval. John laughed at the two of them and turned away, waving his hand.

"All right, all right," John acknowledged, and slowly turned back to look at the two of them. Dean's fork clattered onto the plate.

"Dean-" John started, about to mention that Dean should be more careful with the silverware.

"Dad, Sam's having a seizure," Dean interrupted, and angled himself towards Sam. John looked sharply at Sam, confused: the kid was just blinking.

Glancing at John and seeing his expression, Dean figured he'd make it clear to his Dad, and waved his hand within an inch of Sam's face. Sam didn't react, and continued to blink. John started, feeling the panicked need to do something, but Dean's relaxed tone of voice cut through him.

"It's an absence seizure. He just blanks out for a few seconds," Dean explained.

"Jesus," John said, alarmed.

"It's okay, Dad," Dean reassured, "Sam's actually done this for awhile now. I just never really knew…" He trailed off, but John got the point.

Suddenly, Sam snapped back to consciousness with a cough. He smiled down at the table and slumped back tiredly against the seat.

"Besides," Sam looked up at his father, "I really  _liked_  Jurassic Park, Dad, so obviously I'm old enough for it," he reasoned. At his father's expression, Sam's face fell.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam looked at Dean, who gave him a small smile.

"Nothing, bud, you just taught Dad what an absence seizure looks like," Dean grinned. Sam's eyes widened and turned to look at his Dad. John gave a chuckle at Sam's expression.

"Hey buddy, it's cool. No worries," he said light-heartedly, and Sam softened, leaning back against the seat. John noticed Sam's eyes wander around the restaurant drowsily. Dean snapped his finger sharply, making John turn his way. Taking one last bite of his food, Dean looked at his father, nodded at their table, then cocked his head to the restaurant's exit. John gave an imperceptible nod of agreement.

"Okay well what do you guys think of getting back?" John announced good-naturedly. Sam grimaced and leaned forward towards his food.

"I haven't even finished," he whined. Dean rolled his eyes. Sam was only ever annoying when he was tired… But that still made him annoying.

"Dude, we'll just get it wrapped up," Dean said, dismissing Sam's complaint.

"Fine," Sam drawled in his high-pitched voice, goofily leaning his face close to the plate. John inched his way out of the seat.

"All right, I'm gonna go pay. Dean-?" Dean looked up, still smiling at Sam's sleep-drunk behavior.

"Yeah?"

"You want to wave down a server to get the food packed up?"

Just as Dean was about to reply, Sam unexpectedly lurched backwards and Dean caught Sam's head from slamming into the back of the booth.

"SAM!" Dean yelled in annoyance, "What the  _hell_ , dude!" Sam turned to look at Dean with equal irritation.

"What?! It's cushioned!" Sam yelled back, turning around in his seat to look at the back of the booth. It was, in fact,  _not_  cushioned where his head would've gone. "Oh," Sam said as he observed it. "Sorry," he added, looking at Dean. Dean shook his head and gave his Dad a look:  _could we get going, please?_

"Okay okay I'm going," John said. He realized the scene he just witnessed had disturbed him a little bit more than the absence seizure had. Sam had to be more careful…

With their food packed up and ready to go, the family took their departure and piled into the Impala.

John had to admit that that had been one of the most eventful dinners he'd ever had. He glanced at Dean, who had just resettled himself from checking on Sam in the back.

"He asleep?"

"Yep," Dean nodded.

"So," John started, "that was an absence seizure?"

"Mmhm," Dean hummed in the positive.

"Does he get those often?"

"They come and go. I used to think he was just being a space cadet." Dean's reply was tinged with regret.

"You couldn't have known," John justified reasonably. Dean shrugged.

"Did you mean what you said?" Dean asked, looking up at his father. John glanced at him, confused.

"What?"

"That you'd take a class?"

"Yeah, yes. Absolutely," John nodded and tried to give his son as sincere an expression as possible while still driving safely.

"'Kay, 'cause," Dean paused, fiddling with a tape cassette in his hands. "That would really help me out," he admitted softly.


End file.
